The Catalyst
by GdaySkipp -Atlas
Summary: Don't worry about the title. It was just the song I was listening to when I wrote this. Nothing special, But my best story yet! Read & Review please!


Dedicated to Steve Feasey, the Guy who helped us discover the beast within, and use it to overcome the darkest moons of our lives.

1

For the first time in a millennia, Samael's eyelids showed signs of movement.

He'd spent an infinite amount of time sitting in this pocket dimension, contemplating the passing of the centuries that he couldn't see, but could feel against his spirit like the water of a river beats against the rocks.

Slowly his lids lifted, revealing yellow orbs like the eyes of a reptilian predator- malevolent, calculating and hungry.

He surveyed the world of mist around him. It was a bleak landscape, with nothing but emptiness to accompany him. That was the way it had been for so long for him- imprisoned in this infernal cipher asylum, forced to shut his mind down for indefinite stretches so as not to let his sanity slip through his fingers. Feeling nothing in a world of nothingness.

But now, he felt something inside the nothingness, like the very fabric of this dimension had shifted. He felt the walls around him distorting, although things didn't seem all that different.

Slowly he raised his massive demon form off the ground. His long tail- nearly 8 feet of solid muscle tipped with a vicious spike on the end- uncoiled under him and began to twitch and writhe like it had a mind of its own.

Samael stepped forward tentatively, searching for the strongest point of the interference that he'd detected. He raised his clawed arm up like a divining rod, searching for his treasure.

Being a once powerful demon lord, he had great command over the forces of dark magic. But this dimension had been so totally devoid of any energy source that he had been unable to work even the simplest of spells. And deprived of sustenance, he had grown extremely weak. Now this simple act of getting up from a sitting position had drained him so excessively that it took all his effort just to stay on his two feet.

Samael trudged onwards, following the invisible trail. Like a shark drawn to blood, he was moving in closer, ignoring the exhaustion that he felt.

Eventually he came to stop, staggering a bit before he regained his footing. The air in front of him seemed unremarkable, but looks could be deceiving.

Like a crack in a dam, energy flowed out of the air in front of him. He could feel it like a summer breeze against his skin, and the power that surged through was one from a place that he hadn't seen in a long time.

A world where he had once ruled with power to rival that of even a god.

That was until he chose to trust the wrong person, who'd betrayed him and trapped him in this abattoir of emptiness.

Rage overwhelmed for a mere instant, as his eyes blazed with fury and his hands burst into balls of azure flames. But as quickly as his fury had risen, it ebbed away as his debility forced him to drop to his knees. His flames spluttered into non-existence.

Samael cursed himself under his breath for being so careless for letting his emotions getting the best of him.

His body may have been weak, but his mind had lost none of its legendary prowess, nor had his soul any of its ruthlessness.

He knew that the only reason a rift had formed in this prison of his was because the magic that had been holding it had been shattered. It would be days or weeks before the whole façade crumbled and then he could be free.

But the power seeping through the crack in his prison beckoned him forward. He didn't want to wait any longer.

Drawing whatever strength he could from the dimension rift, he lunged forward, his claws ablaze.

His flaming fingers ripped through the air, tearing a gaping hole in his prison like a knife slash across a canvas. The air in front of him glowed and pulsed, a gate of pure energy almost summoning him to step into its embrace. A world he once knew called him to reclaim his rightful place.

Samael allowed himself the smallest of satisfied smiles as he stepped into the glowing void.

There was a loud cracking sound as he felt the ground beneath his feet vanish, as he tumbled into the shimmering vortex.

And almost immediately he felt himself crash to the ground. His senses swam, but he could hear a collection of surprised snorts and roars from around him.

From his prone position, he noted that he'd fallen flat into the middle of a group of very unhappy demons, who had gotten over their initial surprise and were now taking up aggressive postures all around him.

Samael tried to raise himself to his feet, but even this proved to be too difficult for him. His claws dug into the dark earth, as he felt the dark soil against his fingers.

That feeling brought back memories of a time when he'd walked on this very ground, feeling the world tremble at his every step.

He was home.

One of the bolder demons approached him, eyeing him with red blood shot eyes, set into a head that resembled a boar if anything else, with massive tusks that curved up and backwards like scimitars. It was a gangly creature covered in a carpet of dirty brown fur.

"Now who might this 'ere feller be", the demon snorted. "He's messin up me party here mates!".

"Probably wanted a wee dram imself", another demon laughed from some distance away.

The pig-demon laughed like a jovial drunk, which he probably was. "Well too bad. This party's by invitation only. And gatecrashers will be dealt with most 'arshly".

He prodded Samael's prone body with a hoofed foot.

It was the last thing the demon would ever do.

In a blur of savage movement, Samael's clawed hand shot forward like a viper, talons outstretched, and homing in on their prey.

In the time it took to blink, the pig demon's head had been separated from its shoulders, flown through the air in a ghastly arc, and was now on the ground nearly twenty feet away. The bloody stump of its neck spewed black gore like a geyser, before the creature's body crumpled to the ground.

The other demons stood in stunned disbelief as Samael lifted the dead demon's body high over his head. And like a bottle of wine, he siphoned the black gore from the creature's lifeless husk into his ravenous maw.

Once the body had been drained, he tossed the useless shell aside. Samael had his eyes closed as his forked tongue licked away the ebony blood that covered his lips, stopping occasionally to wipe one of his dagger like teeth clean as well. He let the satisfaction and the strength fill his being as the refreshing blood went down his throat and quenched his burning hunger. A satisfied smile played across his lips.

Right then the demons around him had managed to gather their wits enough that one of them screamed, "Well what you waiting for? Kill the filthy bastard!"

The demons attacked Samael, but he just stood there calmly as several pairs of claws and fangs came at his body.

Then with another lightning quick movement, a pair of enormous bat-like wings erupted from his back and spread out around him, letting loose a powerful gust of wind that set the dust around him flying, and blinding the attacking demons.

Samael simply spun on the spot like a ballerina, his razor-edged wings extended around him. In seconds, screams filled the air as blood rained from countless decapitated and mutilated bodies.

When he was sure that all his enemies were no more, he stopped his macabre dance. He shook his wings a few times to wipe of the unsavory blood that now stained them before pulling them tightly against his back once again.

He surveyed the carnage with grim appraisal. These vile vermin should never have been able to touch him. He was slipping up a little, and the thought disturbed him.

No matter, they had paid the price for their folly.

He walked past the death and destruction that he had wrought here. He needed to conserve his strength. That erstwhile display of brutality had taken quite a lot out of him.

A demon at his feet which had not yet succumbed to its wounds groaned loudly. Without even breaking his stride, his barbed tail arched up like a snake about to strike and came down on the demon's chest, silencing its pitiful moans. The tail withdrew itself from the body, wrenching the poor creature's still-beating heart right out of it's lifeless body.

Like a loyal hound, it deposited the pulsating organ right into it's owner's clawed hand.

The Demon Lord studied the heart intently, turning it over as it beat with a staccato rhythm like a nest of angry hornets. Oh how he wished he could hold the heart of the witch who had imprisoned him, and tear the life away from it with his teeth. His mouth almost watered at the irresistible prospect.

He could always pretend for the time being that this was the traitor's life-giving organ. That would at least bring him some measure of satisfaction.

With that thought in mind he sank his teeth into the black heart, and ripped a streaming chunk of flesh away with his teeth. He bit into it like a ravenous beast, feasting on his ill-gotten fruit with all the savagery of a wild animal. And all the while, he let himself enjoy the feeling of the flesh and blood flowing down his gullet, like a child would enjoy the sweet and milky taste of chocolate against his tongue.

He felt refreshed after that. Turning his head skywards, he took in that familiar purple sun that hung far above that bathed the world with its sepulchral light.

He could feel the power and the strength that he had known before return to him as he bathed in the glow of this dark sun. His hunger had been satiated for now. What was called for forthwith was information. He would slip amongst the people and find out about the events that had transpired since his incarceration.

Samael knew not what course was ahead of him. But of one thing he was absolutely sure: that this world- his birthright- would be under his banner once more.

And all who opposed him, would face annihilation

(I might continue on with it. But at the same time, I might not. What do you readers reckon? To continue or not? R&R Guys!)


End file.
